


and see

by orphan_account



Category: Harry Potter - Rowling
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-09-12
Updated: 2007-09-12
Packaged: 2017-10-11 16:50:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 881
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/114538
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>an alternate epilogue of sorts</p>
            </blockquote>





	and see

"So Hermione's really doing it?"

They're sitting outdoors in the grass like they've done at Hogwarts a million times before. Their robes will have green spots later and Harry relishes the thought because it feels like rebellion, like giving the Dursleys the finger for the years they kept him scared of dirtying Dudley's second-hand robes. Ron taught him that, the first time he caught Harry hesitating. "It's okay, Harry," he said, his eleven year old boy's face smiling, "If you want, we can charm it clean later, there's a spell. But who'll care?"

Harry glances at Ron by his side and waits, because that question was thrown out in that casual tone Ron sometimes uses before he's about to bring down the house in a temper tantrum. But instead of looking agitated, Ron stares into the sky with his eyes almost closed, lashes brushing his freckled cheeks.

He waits longer, but Ron doesn't follow up, so he says, "I like him," and thinks about the young man Hermione's going to bind herself to. His name is Berrigan, and Ron hasn't let him live it down yet. He can hear their little conversations still,

"Would you stop calling him 'Berry', Ronald, your jealousy is unbecoming!" Hermione said, her exasperation clear, and Ron's wide-eyed innocence at the accusation.

"But it's his name, isn't it?" he asked. "You don't call me Ronald all the time either. And he told me he likes it."

"He's a decent bloke," Ron says now, agreeing easily.

Harry leans back again, inhales the sweet scent of the blooming cherry tree in the garden. The dandelion's yellow pales in comparison to the bright redness of Ron's hair. "It's funny," he starts.

"- how she met him?" Ron says. "I still think sending her parents to Australia was the funniest thing she ever brained. Clever Hermione, you'd think she'd know her parents well enough to know they'd go ahead and get adopted by a tribe."

"Nation."

"What?"

"Hermione says they prefer the term nation."

"Oh. Right." Ron shrugs.

"And I didn't mean that. Though you're right, her plan, sound as it was, does seem doomed in retrospect."

Ron smiles and crosses his hands behind his head, relaxing into the warmth of the sunshine. Harry follows his gaze and catches the cloud on the horizon, shaped like a crossbreed of monkey and giraffe.

"I meant the way things turned out." Harry can't quite help it, the little shiver. It could have been different. "Do you regret..." But he can't ask. It makes him feel vulnerable, too much like putting himself out there with no protection.

Ron turns his head to Harry and frowns. "What are you on about?"

"Hermione's marrying someone else, and I don't know whether - I mean, _you_ guys were supposed to be together, not you and me."

"Don't be daft." Ron gives a small snort. "I didn't doubt she'd find someone brilliant and different like herself, mate. I'm glad it's Berry. He's a nice sort."

"I think you're brilliant," Harry mumbles, making Ron grin, and then adds, more loudly, "I'm just asking because you still sound so surprised."

"Because she's marrying." Ron says. "She's only twenty-five, I thought she'd wait a few more years."

"It's really been that long, huh?" Harry looks at him.

Ron returns his gaze, not moving. There's wonder in his eyes. "You've got to be kidding me."

Harry blushes. "I dunno what you're talking about."

"Harry!"

"What?"

"You... you idiot, Harry, just say it."

"D'you suppose we could? Not immediately, but maybe... some day?"

Ron flops over and buries Harry beneath his own body, ending up on top. He's heavy, and irresistable like the chocolate-flavoured icing on strawberry cake they had after luch. His lips are an inch above Harry's when he mumbles, "Mum will just _love_ hearing we got engaged on the day of Hermione's wedding."

"Is that a yes?"

Ron kisses him, makes him sigh into a kiss that is gentle agreement. "And just for the record," he then says, rises from Harry, to his feet, and pulls Harry up by his wrist to stand beside him. "I never once regretted Hermione and me breaking up. It was a childhood crush. We got over it, and then we figured out we'd be disastrous together."

Harry swallows. "So you don't reckon Hermione will be very mad."

"Oh, no, we're not announcing this until after her wedding is over. I'm not stealing her thunder, I reckon that will make her furious. You know Hermione. There'll probably be a quiz afterwards, too, just to make sure everyone was paying attention."

"So what did we get up for?" Harry asks with a frown and looks down at the spot where they were lying so comfortably just a couple minutes ago. "We don't have to get ready for hours yet. Did I mention I hate that tux?"

Ron grabs his hand and pulls him along, not registering his protest. "I remember. As you said, we have hours. We might as well use them to practice our wedding night," he teases. "You know. Just so we don't do it wrong. Don't look so alarmed, Harry, we still have a few months left to get it right, I'd say."

Harry just snorts, but he follows quite willingly.

~*~

~~ _written in July 2007_


End file.
